cecilia-ahern-love-rosie

376 Cecelia Ahernasked shop owners and stall owners but none of them had any ideawhere this hotel was.After ringing the course director almost in tears and in a completepanic over the fact that I was late for my first day of work, I alsosucceeded in accusing him of giving me the wrong address. He kepton repeating the same address over and over again which I told himcouldn’t be possible because the building in question was completelyderelict.Eventually he said he’d ring the hotel owner and double-check thedirections with him so I sat down on the filthy front steps of thederelict building (dirtying the bum of my new suit) and tried not tocry about how late I was and what a bad impression this was making.Suddenly the door of the building behind me opened with a very loudfarting noise at the hinges and this thing looked out at me. The thingspoke in a very strong Dublin accent, introduced himself as Cronin UiCheallaigh, the owner of the building, and insisted I call him Beanie.At first I was confused by his nickname but as the day wore on it allbecame very clear. The hinges of the front door were not what madea farting sound; it was indeed the gaseous behind of Beanie.He brought me inside to the ancient, damp building and showed mearound the few rooms on the ground level. He then asked me if I hadany questions and I of course wanted to know why I was in this particularbuilding and when was I going to see the hotel. To which hereplied proudly, “ ’Dis is de bleedin’ hotel. Nice, wha’?”He then asked me if I had any ideas on how to improve the hotelafter my first impression and I suggested displaying the actual nameof the hotel on the actual building so as to make it easier for theguests. (Although not doing so was also a good marketing ploy.) Ialso suggested spreading the word of its existence among the surroundingbusinesses so they could help advertise the hotel (or atleast be able to help give directions to completely lost tourists).